


The Doctors' Order in Perfect Opposites

by KendylGirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, MSR, Male-Female Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-12-25 05:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendylGirl/pseuds/KendylGirl
Summary: Fox Mulder and Sherlock Holmes are two "spooky" geniuses who relate to one another like oil and water.  Fortunately for them, their doctor partners, John Watson and Dana Scully, see eye to eye.  The two doctors compare notes on how they came to be at this juncture in their lives, in the company of such infuriating and enthralling men.





	1. Spilling Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chryse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chryse/gifts).



> With much gratitude to Chryse and the reply to my comment: You said, "Do it!" and I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. So, I did it...
> 
> These shows do not have timelines that match up in any reasonable way; plus, The X-Files plummeted after Mulder's appearances grew sparse after season 7, and I can't bring myself to acknowledge in print the pox that was Mary Morstan and series 4. Thus, this is more a meeting of each pair in their prime.  
> References are made to major events, and bits of original X-Files dialogue are used from various episodes.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Don’t I look serious?”

John groans internally. _God, we were so close._

The pale eyes narrow, scrutinizing the square face before them that was aggressive only in its impassivity.Mulder had buffeted Sherlock’s powers of perception, spinning the past three days as an unnerving mix of encyclopedic knowledge of abnormal psychology, along side a flip humor that dripped of arcane American pop culture.When the two had been sloughed off by MI5, they'd landed in Greg's office.Lestrade had matched them up, suggesting that he and Sherlock would be ideal to assist the American FBI agents determine if one of their unusual cases had spread across international waters.

Greg had been right.And he had also been very, very wrong.

The four of them proved to be a wildfire, succeeding in dispensing with one drawer of files of worthless leads, solving three different bonus cold-case murders, and ultimately securing the arrest of the original suspect in question.However, if it were correct to posit that genius requires an audience for optimal function, it is decidedly not to be optimally obtained from another genius.At one point, John feared he would drown in the turbulent flood of the intellectual pissing contest that had erupted between Sherlock and the enigmatic Fox Mulder, and just when they had been minutes from bidding the agents a farewell, his shoes were starting to dampen again from more than the vague mist of a London afternoon.

“There are no accounts of vampiric activity in Great Britain, Agent _Mulder_ ,” Sherlock drawled, grinding out his last name with pointed derision.“Tell me, please, is that truly your name, or are you traveling under some kind of bureaucratic alias, purposefully designed to affect a cover for you with an ugly veil of sheer apoplectic disbelief?”

Mulder’s expression doesn’t waver.“It’d better be my name or my bunkmate at Camp Okeenola lost all of his monogrammed Fruit of the Looms for no reason whatsoever.And you’re a fine arbiter of labels, sir, given that yours could be the name of a company that manufactures antique wall safes.”

The tips of Sherlock’s ears pink, and a gust of wind makes his curls dance against his forehead. He pulls himself up to glower from the very top of his six feet, an arm swinging up to point a gloved finger at Mulder’s face.

But John arrests its path, placing a warm hand on Sherlock’s forearm.He turns his back to the others and murmuring, “Steady as she goes there.”Without consciously deciding to, he runs his thumb in soothing arcs over the wool.

Sherlock’s attention stutters.He looks down, and his eyes dart around John’s face, absorbing its unseen details, and after a few moments, John can feel the tension in his muscles ease slightly.Sherlock clears his throat and shoves his hands into the broad pockets of the Belstaff.John glances back to see Mulder turn toward his partner and wink while she returns what is clearly a practiced warning stare.

Mulder bites his bottom lip and cocks his head in Sherlock’s direction.“Well, I’m not sure how you can discount a pattern of sightings and folklore which dates back thousands of years of human history, indicating heavily the presence of distinctive enclaves of vampire or vampire-like—-“

“Easily.”

“Yeah?Why is that?”

“Oh, gee, how about _because they don’t exist_?”

John hears Agent Scully choke and cough into the crux of her elbow.He peers around the two Titans and notices her eyes widened and a half smile fighting to take over the entirety of her red lips.

John smirks. _I’ll bet she’s uttered those exact words at least once._ He waits to catch her eye, and then motions with his head to the small coffee shop across the street from the corner where they’d stopped. 

“Conventional wisdom might agree with you, though I had expected you to be capable of something beyond the conventional, Mr. Holmes.Really, from the Irish Dearg-due to the…”

The prickly drone fades as they reached the other side of the street and choose a small table inside the front window of the cafe.John orders them a pot of tea and a plate of scones at the counter as Agent Scully shakes off her brown trench and hangs it on the stand in the corner.

“This is a bit nicer, eh?You don’t want to board a plane damp _and_ deaf, I imagine.”

She gives him a small but genuine smile.“You read my mind.”

When the tea arrives in a petite carafe, John pours it out for both of them, and they are quiet as they sip and nibble on the pastries.

Finally, John wipes his mouth.“So, I’m curious—how _did_ you become a federal agent, Doctor Scully?”

She raises a finely groomed eyebrow.“I filled out an application, Dr. Watson.”John rolls his eyes good-naturedly, and she chuckles.“Sorry.I think Mulder is getting to me.”She clears her throat and pushes a lock of her red hair behind her ear.“I needed a challenge,” she replies simply.“Not that medical school and residency aren’t difficult, as you well know, but…I just needed something _more_.”

“More of what?”

She shrugs.“A way to distinguish myself, a way to feel as if I were making a real difference.I thought the FBI would provide that.”

“Dopamine addict, then.”

Her freckled nose crinkles.“A bit.”She takes a sip of her tea.“It has definitely been…interesting.”

“And you investigate…umm…paranormal phenomena?”

“Not exclusively, no, but on occasion our cases are classified as such.Our attention goes to the crimes that have stalled under the practice of conventional techniques, hence the moniker of ‘unexplained phenomena.’Mulder and I are able to develop new avenues of investigation, which often lead to success.”

John studies her reserved expression.“What’s he like as a partner?”

Dana looks up sharply.Her voice develops a crisp edge of steel.“The best.He is a great agent.”

“Oh, no,” John holds up his hands, eyes flying open.“No, I mean no disrespect, really.I just imagine that—I mean, I know what it’s like to work with someone who is demanding.Obsessive.”

Her shoulders sag.“Yes,” she sighs.“Obsessive he is, occasionally impulsive, frequently stubborn.”John notes the difference between her hard words and soft tone.“But he is also honest, respectful, and dedicated.And I think that we’ve managed to make each other better at what we do.”

“You trust him.”

“Completely.”

Dana turns to glance out the window at the looming figures still face to face on the opposite street corner, and John follows the path of her eyes.Mulder is pointing upward, making punctuated movements of his arm as if he were connecting dots while Sherlock stares at him with his eyebrows so scrunched together in disbelief that John wonders how he can see past them.

John chuckles softly and murmurs, “How is it that you can meet someone who is erratic and unpredictable and reckless, and you know that completely about them, but you find yourself trusting them with your life, without hesitation?”

“That is an excellent question.”Scully’s voice is wistful.

He’d never thought of his relationship with Sherlock in quite that way.He’d even walled up the idea of referring to it as such.But it _is_ a relationship.Colleagues?Too cold.Friends?No.The very best of friends, the only person on whose say-so John would step blindly into traffic.“I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anyone else.”He doesn’t realize he’s said this aloud until he hears the sharp intake of breath from Agent Scully.Her cheeks flush, eyes turning to soft pools which dart around his head, like a person who’s been caught dancing to a tune only she could hear.

John pours out some more Earl Grey and raises his mug towards her, as if in a toast, before he takes a quick sip.“I can believe it, though.Your work this week has been exceedingly fluid and professional, and that only comes from trust.”

“It’s a plus that Mulder doesn't have much interest in the Bureau's boy's club.”

"Not a part of that inner circle, I take it?”

"He started that way, but some personal experiences led him to the X-Files, and he's never looked back."Her eyes are far away. "He doesn't care what anyone thinks of him.”

"How about you?”

She cocks her head.

"Have you looked back?”

Scully compresses her lips to a small bloom and fingers at the remaining corner of her scone. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't. When I first was assigned to the X-Files, I would've done just about anything to escape. I mean, I grew up in a military family, I was a scientist--I was used to order and rationality.”

"What changed?”

"A lot." Her gaze drops to her lap. "My father died and my sister not long after." John could see the pain etched in the subtle lines of her face. “And I was abducted by a suspect and nearly died.”She tries to swallow down the gravel in her voice.“All of it suddenly made those visions of a high-powered career and climbing to the top of the ladder far less relevant."She purses her lips. "Plus, I saw early on what that path was doing to some of my academy classmates. They had clearly lost the meaning, if that makes sense.I didn't want that to happen to me.”

“Do you think it would have?"

She tilts her head. "Possibly.Mulder once said to me that we may not always agree, but he appreciated that at least I respected the journey.I wanted to make sure I never let go of that.That was something that mattered-- _really_ mattered, you know?”

John nods. “As a doctor, you wanted to keep saving people, just in a different way.”

Dana’s mouth twists up in the corner.“I suppose so.And I started with myself.”

She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly through pursed lips.“How about you?I can’t imagine you pictured yourself solving crimes with a consulting detective.”

John crosses his right ankle over his left thigh.“No, not exactly.But…”He is surprised by the sudden tightening in his chest.He swallows thickly.“But meeting Sherlock pretty much saved me.”

Scully’s eyes widen, but she says nothing.

John runs his index finger absently along the rim of his mug.“When I returned from Afghanistan, I was so…out of sync with the regular world.I was adrift.Didn’t fit anywhere, anymore.I was a zombie.”

Scully’s turquoise eyes studied him.“And Sherlock brought you back to life.”

John barks a laugh.“God, don’t let _him_ hear you say that!”Then his face sobers, and after a beat, he offers, “Sherlock was—is—extraordinary in a very, _very_ ordinary world.I’d given up hope that there was anything left that could surprise me in a _good_ way.”He meets her gaze.“That was him.”

Dana’s smile ripples across her face.“You two are good for each other.”

John’s eyebrows twisted together.“I’m not sure about _that_.We certainly have a list of happy clients, but I don’t feel as if I play much of a role most times.”

She shakes her head firmly.“No.He waits for your approval.He listens to you, respects you.”

“You can’t be serious!”John snorts.“Sherlock loves to show off and to needle me about my tiny brain—well, me and the rest of the world.I seriously doubt he’s hanging upon my every word.”

Her voice is steady, certain.“I’ve no doubt, John.Whatever you think Sherlock’s done to help you, you’ve done it for him two-fold.”

He ducks his head.“That’s very kind of you.”

She leans forward.“And it seems to me that the _best_ relationships—the ones that last—are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.”

John pops his last corner of scone into his mouth brushes his hands together to rid them of crumbs.“Makes sense, I suppose.”

“Is he in love with you, too?”

“What?”John’s mug hits the wooden table with a thunk.His mouth hangs slightly ajar, and he snaps it shut before the lump of half-chewed pastry can tumble out.

Dana’s cheeks redden.“Oh, I…I don’t mean to be presumptuous.Really.Are you…you _are_ in love with him, aren't you?”

John stares at her.He feels his temperature rising, and his automated response splutters out.“I’m not gay.”

“Do you need to be?”

“To love men?”

“No, to love this one person, who just happens to be a man.As a doctor, you’re obviously aware that there are innumerable expressions of human sexuality.The continuum that exists for—”

“Right, right.” John scratches his forehead and waits a beat to quell the ridiculous flood of panic.“Why would you say that?” 

Scully smoothes her napkin on her leg.“Well, I… I mean…”Her voice dies to a gurgle in her throat before she resolves to push ahead.“The way you come alive when he walks in a room.The way you read his moods, then move to correct him before he’s said a word.The way you smile whenever you speak of him, even if it is to tease him.The way you move in front of him when someone walks his way--"

John silences her with a raised index finger.She snaps her jaw shut, and John runs his palm up and down the back of his head, ruffling his short blonde hair into spikes.“Jesus,” he mutters.“You saw all that in _three days_?”

She smirks, “I produce criminal profiles.Reading people sort of comes with the territory.”Then, she scoots closer, and her voice softens.“I get it, John.Really, I do.It seems impossible, doesn’t it?In a purely chance meeting, you’ve found your perfect other, your perfect opposite—your protector and endangerer, and so you chance embarking with this other on the what becomes the greatest of journeys—a search for truths fugitive and imponderable.And it swallows you both whole.”

Scully’s voice fades as her eyes glass over, looking inward now.John is transfixed.Neither of them speak or breathe.The moments stretch, weighty and palpable.

John is the first to shake himself free.He slides back against the chair and crosses his arms.“All right.Brilliant, then.How about you?How long?”

She looks up but doesn’t respond.

His eyebrows raise and he bites his bottom lip.

She clears her throat and drains her tea cup.

John waits.

Scully shoves the mug away from her, almost defiant.“Day one.”

“That so?”

“We sparred.I thought he was a quack, and he thought I was a patsy.And he got in my face and made a smarmy remark about putting the ‘I’ in FBI.”

She laces her fingers together.

“What?”  


Dana purses her lips and waits.

His eyes pinch closed for a second.“Oh, bloody hell.Same here.First thirty seconds.Bastard deduced my entire life as I handed him my mobile.”John throws his arms out, then folds them behind his back as if handcuffed.“From that moment, I was gone.”

Scully lets out a long breath and avoids his gaze as she starts to gather their rubbish together.Her face is pinched.“I’ve never admitted to any of this, you realize.Not even to myself,” she says finally.She drops her napkin on her plate and props her head up with her left hand against her temple.

John feels lightheaded. _Neither have I.Oh, shit_.He contemplates dropping his head between his knees lest he slip to the floor like a blank sheet of paper.

A crash jolts them both as the cafe’s front door is slammed open against the wall.

“…is a shape shifter, a curse passed occasionally through bloodlines, but most likely through a violent—”

“Oh, indeed!   How _fascinating_!   So 'wendigo' is actually a Native term meaning _delusional moron_ , then.Thank you for clarifying.”

“Come on, Mr. Holmes, you can’t deny the rich history of--"

“John!Do something with this, please!”

Sherlock slides around to the opposite side of the table, his face thunderous, nostrils flaring and breath coming in swishing gusts.

Scully eyes her partner.“Mulder…”

Mulder’s expression is the soul of affable innocence.He straightens his tie and shrugs at her. 

John stands slowly and crosses his arms, peering up into Sherlock’s face.“Can’t you learn to play nice with the other kids?”He tries to sound stern, annoyed, but he cannot keep the twinkle from his eyes.

Sherlock’s spine stiffens precipitously.“The fact that he is still sporting all of his teeth is objective evidence that I am, in fact, on my very best behavior, as you insisted.Do not press me beyond that.”

John sighs.“Sherlock, can you just…”

Scully gets up as well and reaches for her coat.“No, it’s fine.We need to get to Heathrow.”

“Finally!”Sherlock hisses, and John shoots him a look.

Outside, Mulder heads to the curb and signals for a taxi, and Sherlock stalks down the sidewalk away from their group.When a cab swishes up to them, Mulder ducks in and Scully turns back to John.

“It really has been good to work with you.Very…enlightening.”

John laughs.“Yes, I guess that it has been, at that.”He raises an eyebrow and looks at her pointedly.“What are your plans now?”

She gulps.“Uncertain.”

John offers his hand.“A word of unsolicited advice:Trust yourself.Opportunities sprung from chance meetings can be gone before you know it.”

She shakes his hand, then gives it an extra squeeze as a subtle smile plays on her lips.“Ditto.”

“Good luck, Dr. Scully.”

“You, too, Dr. Watson.”

The door closes, and the car swoops away from the curb into traffic.Sherlock is waiting for him at the opposite corner, rolling his eyes profusely as the cab passes him.John can make out through the back window the outline of Agent Mulder waving furiously.

“At last,” Sherlock huffs and falls into step next to John.After a few seconds, Sherlock squints at him.“What’s happened?”

“Happened?What are you on about?”

“Something has unsettled you.You’re in a fog.”

“Am I?”

“John.”

He sighs.“Nothing you need to worry about, really.”

Sherlock is silent until the next block.“Are _you_ worried?”

John’s heart clenches at the hint of nervousness in his voice.He stops and grabs Sherlock’s lapel.“No, Sherlock, I’m not.And you definitely shouldn’t be.You know you can trust me, right?”

Sherlock visibly relaxes as John smoothes out the fabric of his coat, tracing across the broad shoulders and down his chest in careful, soothing lines.  The bulging tendon along the side of Sherlock's neck recedes, rippling the adorable freckle at its center.For the first time in days, his clear eyes glimmer, now an impish green in an errant sunbeam that has poked through the weakening cloud deck.“I do.Implicitly.”

John’s broad smile catches the light, and his hand slips down the long arm to come to a rest in Sherlock's curled palm.“Ditto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scully DID utter those exact words about vampires in "Bad Blood."


	2. Text Alert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four months after their encounter in London, John seeks Scully's assistance with a case; she helps with that, and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I couldn't help myself! After your comments on the first part, I just had to add this. I guess I love the idea of these two having a confidant who is there to help the other pursue the happiness that is so richly deserved.

Hello, Dr. Scully!Have time for a query from an old friend?Bit of a puzzle.JW

Hi there, Dr. Watson!Depends—will I need to buy a vowel?

Ummm…???JW

Nevermind.How may I assist?

Dead doctor.Head of Janik Fertility Laboratories.No criminal history.Business healthy, no tax liens or creditors calling.Squeaky clean.JW 

Married?

Yes, and blissfully if staff is to be believed.Two daughters.Gone for a fortnight to Aspen on holiday.JW

Sherlock must have ideas.

I’ve no doubt.JW

And…?

Can’t really ask him.JW 

Why?

… 

… 

I’d rather not say.Bit embarrassing.JW 

…

I feel I must clarify that I know a man’s death is important, and we both take the work quite seriously.JW

 …

You contacted me, John.

Right.   Ok.   Here it is:We’ve a wager on.JW

Wager?

Yes, I know.Unprofessional.Immature.   Well, he was on one of his jags, so I got hacked off, and by the time we’d stopped shouting, I’d bet the bastard I could solve the case before him.JW

I see.The stakes?

We each get three demands met.JW 

That sounds…dangerous.

Right.If I can’t get a lead soon, I know that I’ll at least be ironing his socks for a month.God knows what else.JW

His SOCKS? 

Don’t ask—he’s a nutter about his hosiery.JW

And if you win?

I’ve only decided that I won’t be touching a single piece of dirty laundry for a month, save what I remove.JW

That’s all?

Didn’t want to get ahead of myself.JW

Understood.   But I remember a friend of mine once warning me not to let opportunities slip away…

Quite.   What are you suggesting?JW

I suggest you ask for what you REALLY want. 

…

Do you know what that is?

… 

…

I’m not sure.JW

Not sure what it is or not sure you can have it?

Is there a difference?JW

You know there is, John.  Has anything changed since Mulder and I saw you in London? 

…

No.JW

… 

Yes.  JW

...

A bit?  JW

You're ready for more?

Afraid to push my luck.JW

I’m sure he feels the same way.

You’re a kind person, Dana.JW

It’s not kindness, John.It’s experience. 

Right!God, I’m a selfish clot—how are things faring with Agent Mulder in Washington?JW 

Hectic.Bizarre.Oddly illuminating.   In other words, Tuesday.

Illuminating?JW

Just spent time with an old acquaintance from med school.I diagnosed his heart malfunction, and also had some visions.

Visions are not so bizarre to someone who’s been to war.What did yours awaken you to see?JW

What I thought was a guardian angel.

What was it?JW

Mulder.

…

Wow.JW

I know.

How do you feel?Are you ok?JW

Yes, and I guess that’s the odd part.

… 

I feel at peace.Like all of the obstacles, all the reasons for isolation that I’ve stacked up over the years to hide behind, have fallen away. 

…

You should give it a try, John.

 

…

All right, Dana.So you think that if I were to win this wager and make some demands of a more _personal_ nature, the results would be…good?JW

Obviously. :)

Oi, now that gave me the shivers right there!JW 

If Sherlock’s favorite word can do that, imagine of what the man himself is capable.. ;)

Stop!   Message received.   I promise to soldier on, fear be damned.JW

Excellent!

Now help me solve this bugger!JW

Right!You said the lab is doing well.Above average success rate with the IVF?

Yes, amazingly well above average.75%JW

Examine health records of the children born within the last year.See if they suffer from some of the same abnormalities or exhibit the same traits.Mulder and I had a case a few years ago where an employee of the lab was substituting his own sperm for the husbands’ samples.

With all of the protocols necessary?How did he manage that?JW

You REALLY don’t want to know…   I’ll just say that it would be highly unlikely your suspect would use the same method.   But if tampering has occurred here, perhaps the boss found out and confronted him. 

Brilliant!I’m on it!   You’re a lifesaver.JW

Happy to help!

Must run—Sherlock’s probably set up camp in the lab by now, and I’m a man on a mission. JW

No worries—running a bit late myself.

Exciting plans?JW

Meeting Mulder.A quiet night and movie at his place.Probably Caddyshack.(What IS it with men and that film??)

 

Enjoy yourself, Dana. 

…

I’m happy for you.JW

 

Thank you, John.   Same.   Sherlock is a lucky man.

Cheers, Dana.JW

Bye, John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think about this beforehand, but as I started writing this, I just somehow knew that John would adopt Sherlock's habit of signing his text messages with his initials. He doesn't do it with Sherlock or anyone who would correspond with the detective, but it just seemed right that he would do it here. [John made me do it! :)]
> 
> The X Files episodes referenced here are "All Things" (which Gillian Anderson wrote and directed) and "Small Potatoes" (which has to be one of the funniest episodes of the whole series).
> 
> My humble thanks to all who have taken the time to read this or anything I've written!


	3. Moving in Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days before the conversation of chapter 2, Mulder has his own texting bout with a certain consulting detective. Despite their best efforts, it is surprisingly useful for both.

Greetings, Mr. Holmes!

Identify yourself.SH

If you need me to do that, your reputation is grossly exaggerated.Plus, it will break my heart.

Spare me.Cryptic, arrogant, and possessing an unfamiliar number from America?You bore me, Agent Mulder.SH

Bonus points if you can guess my tie color.

What do you want?SH

I’ve a lead on unusual activity in your general vicinity.

How did you get this number?SH

Inspector Lestrade.He said you’d know the answers and you wouldn't mind helping.

Wrong.SH

So you don’t have any answers?

…

Do be serious.  I mean that I mind.Very much.The Inspector is not to be trusted, nor is any other person who wet the bed until he was 8.SH

Ok.Even so, I still trust you, in case you were wondering.

…

…

I know 243 different ways to kill you and leave no traceable evidence, Agent Mulder.SH

From a distance of 3500 miles?

…

No.From a distance of 5913 kilometers as the crow flies.SH

…

You asked Siri, didn’t you?

Don't be absurd.SH

“As the crow flies” is a cornerstone of your daily vernacular?

...

…

…

I’ve many gifts, Mr. Mulder.Patience is not one of them.WHAT DO YOU WANT?SH

Has there been a recent increase in reported abductions in areas of Wiltshire?

Lestrade was unable to answer that for you?SH

Not his division, he claims.

Why would Wiltshire be at risk for kidnapping at this juncture?SH

Abductions.An FBI computer program has charted a pattern of unusual activity in that area, one which surfaces in three-year increments.

Why would an American government office tasked with domestic crimes be charting offenses in rural England?SH

X files are everywhere.

Define “unusual activity.”SH

An uptick in the region’s relatively low crime rates.The appearance of unforeseen phenomena and/or victims displaying unidentifiable marks.

If this is about that Mexican goatsucker, you will pay dearly.SH

El chupacabra?  No such luck.

Kidnapping is a specialized crime that is statistically non-existent in that area.SH

…

This information is undoubtedly available through a number of resources at your disposal.SH

…

And medical data can be capably provided by your partner, the one in your office who is not insane.SH

Scully’s working on another case.

Join her.SH

I’m not sure what it is.Personal matter.If she needs help, she’ll ask.

Agent Scully is independent and determined.She will not ask.SH

We have worked together a long time.She knows I’m here if she needs me.

Does she? As if reliability is your flagship trait? And she does not want your patronizing protection.She needs an equal, not a daddy.SH

Whoa.  Back up.  Nothing could matter more to me than Scully.  She is the best agent--the best person--I've ever known.  Full stop.

And what do you think you know about any of this?

I don't know; I observed.  She has at least one older male sibling.Her father, probably military, was not overly affectionate.She keeps her emotions closed to avoid the inevitable gender stereotypes that no doubt plagued her entire career.Thus, she has learned to keep people at a distance.You, for reasons surpassing understanding, she has permitted to come close.It is obvious she wishes that sentiment to be returned, but you are too busy dawdling in your pet projects and quack science theories to notice.SH

Thank you for that, but three days with her did not make you an expert on what Scully wants or needs.

And years with her has not made you one, either.SH

You are not one to dole out relationship advice, Mr. Holmes, if Dr. Watson is any indication.

…

…

What about John?SH

The man whose devotion you ignore behind a blind of classic narcissism and a God complex fueled by the mistaken belief in your own infallibility?You treat him like your valet.

…

That is categorically untrue.SH

Would John agree with you?

…

John is invaluable to our investigations.SH

…

…

Correction:John is invaluable.  SH

You might want to let him in on that little secret.

They say that when a man can only feed his ego, his garden will harvest no crops.

You read that in a fortune cookie.SH

No, that’s prime Bazooka Joe. 

Are you high?SH

Point is, you’ve got something there.It’s yours to lose, so pick a side.

…

There is only one side. It’s John.  It's always John.  SH

There you go.Good boy.

Shut up.Phone Agent Scully and leave me alone.SH

If the predicted crop circles form near Avebury in the next two days, there might be corresponding abductions reported, unlike previous years, given the exponential increases in the established three-year cycle of the circles' appearances.I need to be alerted if this occurs.

Crop circles?  So you reference ALIEN abduction?It is a travesty that you are paid with taxpayer funds.I will not investigate what is the worst kind of popular tripe, conjured up to deviate attention from average human idiocy.Go away.SH

So you’ll call me then?

PISS OFF.SH

Is that a no?

Mr. Holmes?

Fine.Give Dr. Watson my best.

No.I’ll give him mine.SH

Whatever.I have to get to Washington National Hospital.Already days late.

Ok, years.

Mulder out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have ever had your jaw broken from chomping on a piece of Bazooka bubble gum, you've encountered the wit and wisdom of Bazooka Joe.


	4. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctors meet at a conference and reveal their progress with their perfect opposites.

The clattering of applause begins to wane as the recessed lighting of the ballroom blooms overhead.Scully nods her final thanks and exhales heavily.She rolls her neck, feeling a wave of exhaustion.The jet lag hasn’t even had time to sink in before they would have to climb back on a plane to return to Washington. _Too soon_ , she muses.One night is not nearly enough time away.

She shuffles together her notes on the podium, then works her fingers over the knobs of the adapter holding her laptop to the projection screen, safely stowing all in the slim leather carry-on.She slides it over her shoulder and turns back to the room, scanning over the milling crowd with careful eyes.

“Dana!”

Her head snaps to the right and she sees an arm waving from a table in the corner.As she weaves her way through the maze of chairs and bodies, she gets close enough to recognize the handsome face atop the crisp collar of a red plaid button-down.“John!Hello!”

The two share a quick embrace before sinking down into a pair of empty chairs around the table.

She shakes her head slightly in amazement.“It’s so good to get a chance to see you!Did you know that I was speaking tonight?”

“Not until I arrived this morning.I saw your name in the program and knew there was no way I could miss ‘Forensic Implications of Diminished Acetylcholine Production in Recidivist Offenders.’Excellent work, Doctor, really.Very intriguing findings.” 

She beams.“Thank you.That means a lot, coming from you, Dr. Watson.”

“Besides, I staunchly refuse to be the odd man out the next time chatter at NSY tires of the last football match.”He gives her a wink.

She raises her eyebrow but laughs in spite of herself.“God, you sound like Mulder.He read my monograph when I was considering the invitation to the conference.”

“Did he?  What did he say?”

“First, he looked me directly in the eyes and told me that it was the only thing he’d read in the past year that absolutely had been worth the eye strain and that The International Society of Forensic Pathology would be lucky to have me in London.”She inhales and bites her lip.“ _Then_ , he flipped his tie and told me he’d give it a 42, but he can’t dance to it.”Her smirk is soft, affectionate.

John’s forehead scrunches. 

“Oh!That’s from…well, have you ever seen…”She waves a hand in the air.“Never mind.”

John glances around.“So, what of Agent Mulder?He here with you?”

“He is, actually.”Her eyes widen slightly before her gaze drops to the table where her manicured nail draws patterns on the ivory cloth.

When she says no more, John angles his neck forward.“And?”

She glances around toward the doorway, mumbling almost to herself, “Probably just getting the luggage from our room since our flight is—“She cuts herself off, eyes flying open.

Tipping back in his chair, John crosses his arms and grins wickedly at her.“ _Our_ room, eh?”

Scully gulps.“I mean—it’s not—well, I’m only here as _Doctor_ Scully, not _Agent_ Scully, so we’re not violating Bureau regulations, per se.Mulder’s just here to…you know, support me, and…”

John scoots forward and places a reassuring palm on her forearm.“Dana, please.It’s fine.It’s all fine.That’s—that’s brilliant, actually.”

Dana stares at him for a beat before a smile overtakes her face.“Things are good, John.”A blush works its way up her neck.“Very good.”

“You deserve every bit of it.”

She places her hand over his and gives it a light squeeze.“Thanks.”

John’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket, and he closes his eyes.Dana chuckles, “You need to get that?”

He glowers and pulls the phone out, reading the message—a single word, _Hungry_ —and dropping the device on the table.“I’m not going to encourage his bad behavior.”

“And how is Sherlock these days?”

“Petulant, as always.”His mouth quirks in an involuntary grin.

“By the way, you never told me who won the bet.”

John stares at her.“Who won the…oh!That’s _right_!The fertility clinic, the murdered doctor…”He bites his bottom lip.“Well, it was sort of a draw.”

“Do tell.”She eases back and crosses her legs.

John rests an elbow on the table top.“Let’s see here…the spotless doctor wasn’t so spotless—not much of a surprise there, I suppose.And Sherlock was convinced the women were simply procreating on their own and that IVF is a quack’s game— _also_ not very surprising, yeah?Well, I examined the medical records as you suggested, and there was no anomaly with the children, but I did find some prescribing data that didn’t make sense.Long story short, it turns out that Janik was taking women who had confided that they were desperate to conceive and perfectly healthy, convincing them to get ‘vitamin shots’ to facilitate the process.Those shots, though, turned out to be a variation of Depo-Provera.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Yep.A few months of that and the patients were foaming at the mouth for further treatments.Once they’d gone in for tens of thousands of pounds worth, he’d cease the Depo shots and pregnancies miraculously occurred.”

“Unbelievable.”

John shakes his head, mouth a hard line.“Agreed.Quite a snake, and probably one to whine and fuss about why malpractice insurance is astronomical these days.”He sighs.“So, it turns out Sherlock, despite sounding like an absolute wanker, was basically right about the case all along.Plus, he’d gotten his brother to investigate the doctor’s financials to find well-hidden and dubious transactions with an off-continent pharmaceutical company.”

“His brother?”

John huffs, “Yeah.Apparently, while I was asking _you_ for help, he was asking the British government.”

"And the murderer was...?"

"Ah!  It was Janik's tough luck not to notice that one of the patients he was bilking was the beloved wife of an inquisitive lieutenant in the Russian mob."

"Oops."

The phone buzzes again.Dana peeks at it and chuckles, then twists the phone John’s way. _The Greek restaurant with the statue in the window has the best tzakiki in the city._ He shakes his head, but he cannot hide his smile.Dana rests her chin in her palm, eyes innocent.“So, does this mean you got your wishes granted?”

He startles, cheeks immediately splotching in red.“Huh?”He clears his throat.“Oh, the wager?”She merely blinks several times, eyebrows creeping up.“Yes, well, as I said, we’d solved it together without realizing it, so we settled on each getting one demand met.”

“And what did you demand?”

John meets her eyes and his blush deepens.“I demanded to know.”

Her lips purse.“To know what?”

“Everything.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing.”

Dana’s hand clutches, and she gasps, “Oh, John, I’m so—“

“He kissed me.”

Her mouth slowly drops open. 

John shrugs, tugging at the collar of his shirt, grin working its way from the corners of his mouth to the rest of his face, settling deepest in his eyes.“And once I was weak in the knees like a sodding school girl, he gave me one of those _looks_ and said, ‘That's everything, John.’”He tips his voice low in imitation.

Scully giggles and punches him playfully on the bicep.“Yes!I _knew_ it!”

Another buzz: _You told me I should eat regularly, John._

He tilts his head to look, then sighs, muttering, “I told him I would be home by 8:00.”

“He must’ve missed you an awful lot.”

When John glances up at her, she is looking over his shoulder to the west exit.He swivels around to see a familiar flipped collar topped by chiseled cheekbones analyzing the crowd.“What the—“

“Scully!”

Through the eastern door marches Fox Mulder, pulling a small black suitcase behind him, garment bag draped over the opposite arm.When he reaches their table, the doctors stand to greet him.

“Mulder, you remember John Watson?”

Mulder drapes the bag over the vacated chair and holds out his hand.“Of course.Doctor Watson,a pleasure.”

“All mine, Agent Mulder.”

“Pardon the interruption, but our taxi is downstairs.”

John holds up a palm.“No worries, I know you’ve a flight to catch.”He turns to Scully.“I’m glad we got a chance to catch up, Dana.”He glances at Mulder, then puts his hand on her shoulder.“All the best to you in your future endeavors.”

“Absolutely, you, too, John.”She winks at him. 

John turns and makes his way over to where Sherlock stands, still looming in the entryway.The detective’s ice blue eyes remained trained on the Americans as John settles in at his side.“Fancy meeting you here,” he comments drily.

Sherlock grunts in response.

At that moment, Mulder turns his head their way, gaze locking with Sherlock’s.He hesitates before unfolding the small black raincoat and holding it up so that Scully can slide into it.His hands hover on her upper arms as she turns her head and murmurs something into her partner’s ear.To Sherlock, he nods pointedly.

Sherlock stands straighter and, holding Mulder’s stare, slides his arm around John’s shoulders and returns the nod decisively. 

“You all right?”

Sherlock tilts his head down to take in the obvious love in John’s relaxed features, his crooked smile, the lit sapphire of his eyes.“Yes, I am, John.Never better, in fact.”

John’s smile broadens, and he hooks his hand around Sherlock’s waist.“Come on.I think there’s some spanakopita across town with my name on it.”

Sherlock takes a final look across the room at Mulder, who is bending to reclaim the luggage as Scully moves ahead of him toward the opposite door, before sweeping himself and John out into the thick stream of bodies in the corridor.

\--THE END--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for indulging me in this venture; I love these characters very much and would like nothing more than for them to be happy with their perfect matches!
> 
> If you've ever seen American Bandstand or Dead Poets Society, you'll understand Mulder's tease about Scully's monograph.
> 
> The title of the monograph I adopted from one she claimed to be writing in the episode "Small Potatoes."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've enjoyed the story enough to leave some feedback.  
> I'd also be quite honored if you would be willing to read some more of my works, as I love to see them finally become complete in the eyes of the savvy readers of this site. Thank you so much!


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